Worgen Worgen
by Amali Roarka
Summary: An orphan girl, 16, remembers nothing of her life from before a year. At night, she finds and takes a strange stone. After meddling with it, all she does is end up in a city unknown to her, surrounded with people similar, yet so different from her. She was a hated orphan back home, but her racial nationalism kicks in. At night, she meets one who will try and rid her of it.
1. Chapter 1

A/N

Hello, and welcome to Worgen Worgen. I hope you enjoy your stay. :D

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**Hearthstone**

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_It was a long day, _a tired thought stirs through the mind of a small teenage girl curled up on her sturdy old bed. Her room smells of poor, and nothing else. It is almost empty, the only things in there being her bed and a small, half-rotten desk, barely standing up. A strangely large cockroach scurries across its empty surface, except for the dust kept in layers. It leaves a trail in the dust.

It is dark, and it is silent. It is not always like that. The girl takes in a deep breath, closing her eyes. It really was a long day, like it always is. She pulls her quilt tighter, though it is not cold.

Everyone is asleep by the time in the house. It is late in the night, or simply early in the day. Her old clock announces midnight with a tiny sound of a tiny bell. The girl sighs, watching the cockroach disappear in the dark shadows in her room.

She sits up with another sigh escaping her lungs, brushing away the quilt. She stares through the large window from across her, staring into the dark of the late night and too early morning. She stands up.

It is not even her house, she just stays the night there. They happen to have a spare room they never use, and let her enter through the large window, keeping the door locked. They like to stay away from her. It hurts, hurts to much, and she hates thinking about it, but there is nothing she can do about it.

She shivers, approaching the locked door. It is a fine piece of wood, seemingly expensive and of an illustrious crafter. She, a poor orphan, spends time behind closed door of a room of a rich family. They gave her the two things, old and rotten, and of worst quality, and it brings a horrible feeling to her chest.

Not everyone hates orphans - most people are warm and lovely towards her, but not this family. However, that family has a room for her.

She steps away from the door, turning around and walking over to the window at a slow pace. It is really dark, though it is usually bathed in a soothing moonlight. Slowly, she opens the creaking window, wincing at every sound it makes. It is loud in the darkness of the still night.

_Oh, dear Lor'danel, _she thinks, furrowing her eyebrows. She closes the window behind her, leaving it open only so much that she could get in again at a later time.

It was a long day, yet now it will be an even longer one. There is no one she has on her birthday.

She paces slowly across the small Lor'danel, taking in a deep breath, reaching the shoreline. Strong waves crash against the sandy shore further away from the town, everything being dark. The ocean is freezing cold, yet the crabs do not seem to mind, going about their business after the waves pull back for a moment. The trees are dark, the grass is dark. Except in Lor'danel. It is a small night elf settlement, placed on a patch of land between two waterfalls. Only long wooden bridges connect them to the mainland of Darkshore. Also, unlike the rest of Darkshore, the trees and grass are vibrant green in Lor'danel.

The girl sits as close as possible to the loud southern waterfall, as well as the southern bridge, sitting with her back leaned on one of the pillars holding the shrine of Elune. It is a source of light, bright light, as well. It is also a source of peace for the night elves.

The girl sighs, closing her eyes. It is a place of peace, for sure. She misses her homeland, yet somehow she likes it better away from the horrible memories at home. Gilneas holds an amount of pain she cannot handle.

A flickering blue light appears next to her, and disappears just as suddenly. She looks to her left, where it appeared, and leans over to see what the small white rock is. It was not there moments ago.

She stretches her hand out, wrapping her fingers around the warm, oval stone with two flat sides, almost purely white in colour. She brings it to the light of the shrine, noticing the blue carved swirl going from the edge to the centre of the stone, on both of the flat sides. She remembers seeing and hearing about those stones around Lor'danel, but she cannot quite remember its name. She does not have one of her own. She does not travel around, anyway.

She runs a finger along the swirl on one side of the stone, and the line glows a bright blue, the stone rising from her palm, floating. Green strands of light surround it, glowing brighter and brighter, and each strand circles around it at a high speed. The girl tries to move her palm away, but the stone follows. A strange feeling tugs at her arm, forcing her to put the other hand close to the stone as if holding it with both hands. The light becomes even brighter and brighter with the passing moment.

At one point it, it becomes bright as possible, and the girl gets a strange feeling within her, magic pulling her in all directions. It is not an unpleasant feeling, but rather feels like home. The girl can feel warmth from within her, reminding her of a fireplace. A hearth.

"It's called a hearthstone," she tells herself, gasping as the magic finally gets the whole of her, making her disappear from Lor'danel.

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A/N

If you have come this far, thank you for reading the first chapter of Worgen Worgen. :D (The title might change over time.)

I would really appreciate if you left a review of any kind, telling me what you thought of this! I accept all criticism, as long as you have something to say to help me improve the parts you did not like. :]

This is perhaps too little to judge from in detail, sure, but for now, you can say something about my writing, and the feel of the story. ^_^

If you liked it, and would like to read more, you can say that as well, and you can follow or favourite the story, whichever you like. :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Stormwind City**

* * *

The girl blinks a few times before realising where she is. She is in an inn. One that is unfamiliar to her.

She finds herself sitting at a table, facing some bookshelves from across the small room. To the right, she sees a darkened staircase leading upward. It looks nothing like inside of an elf house. When she sees a shorthaired redhead human woman, she is convinced she is nowhere near elven lands. The woman is wearing a long dress, which reaches the floor, coloured white and blue. The upper, short sleeved part is white, and it turns blue at her waist. She is wearing a wide brown belt over it. The girl will never understand non-Gilnean humans.

She takes another look at her surroundings. All is made of wood, and the large chandelier looking like a ship's helm is hanging low above their heads, held by heavy chains. The books are messily placed upon the bookshelves, which irks the girl. She looks away. There is only one table, it being the one the girl is at, and it is placed on a green carpet. The other thing surrounded by chairs is a large, golden bearskin to the left of the girl. She grimaces at the sight, then looks back at the woman, the only other living being in the inn.

"Excuse me?" the girl says, not knowing what else to say. The woman shifted in place all the time, looking around and waiting for customers with folded arms. She turns around, not having noticed a person suddenly appear in her inn.

"Oh, hello, when have you come here?" she asks, eyeing the girl as she walks over to the table. "I don't remember giving a hearthstone to someone your age." The girl shrugs.

"I found a lost hearthstone back home, and accidentally activated it," she says.

"Oh, and where do you come from?" the woman asks, tilting her head and smiling. She seems very kind of a person, the girl concludes.

"Lor'danel," the girl says.

"Oh, really?" the woman blinks. "How did you end up in Lor'danel?"

"I am not exactly human," the girl says. A shadow crosses the woman's eyes, but soon she flashes a bright smile at the girl again.

"Oh, well," she says. "That explains it better. Anyway, my name is Allison and I am the innkeeper here. What's your name?"

"I don't have a name," the girl says, confused a bit at the woman's kindness. The woman gasps.

"How come not? What did they call you?"

"Orphan...," the girl bows her head low. "I forgot my name somehow." The woman frowns a little.

"They did not use any name?" she asks, avoiding the memories of the invasion of Gilneas.

"Only two kids used a name. Each had their own, since I answered to anything they wanted to call me," the girl says. "They also had a name both of them called me."

"And what were those names? Not any insults I hope?" Allison asks.

"No, they are normal names," the girl says. "Callum and Ilta. The third one was Amelia. It is what most used when there were more orphans around. That was rare."

"Well, which name do you prefer?" Allison asks.

"I don't know," the girl says.

"Okay, let's see," Allison says, tapping her chin. "Amelia sounds most human, Ilta sounds good, and Callum sounds male, at least to me."

"Well, it is," the girl says, glancing away.

"Okay, either Amelia or Ilta, then," Allison says, folding her arms. "Which one do you feel fits you better?" The girl bites her lip.

"Ilta," she says finally.

"Good!" Allison says, smiling. The girl bows her head down.

"But...I don't know," she says. Allison's smile vanishes.

"Do you have any other name in mind?" she asks.

"Runa," the girl says.

"Okay, then, Runa it is! Is it?" Allison says, chuckling. The girl nods.

"Runa it is," she says with a small smile. She hasn't smiled to someone in a long time.

"Perfect! Would you like a surname with that?" Allison says.

"I already have one I know," the girl says.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, most of the worgen refugees that passed through Lor'danel commented I look a lot like some Sykes in his human form, who they believe is my dad," she says. "They don't know of his fate, though."

"Oh, well, I hope he survived," Allison says.

"I do, too," the girl says.

* * *

After some more time talking and a few passing customers, Allison offers Runa to stay the night, which she accepts. There is still a lot of time till nightfall, so Allison gets her a guide, that being an off-duty guard, Allison's friend.

"Greetings," the man says, standing tall next to Runa. He has a deep voice fitting his rough image, and is wearing casual clothing like most humans walking around and chatting. The city is a lively one.

"Hello," Runa says. "What is this city's name, again?" The guard flinches a bit, but pats her head.

"It's Stormwind city," he says.

"Oh," the girl says. Some of the worgen passing through Lor'danel spoke about it as the human capital.

First, the guard, Matthias leads Runa away from the inn, the crowded area of blue rooftops called Trade District to a long, large stone bridge above a small body of water of a narrow moat. That area between the gate and the rest of Stormwind is a place he calls The Valley of Heroes. Four enormous statues are lined up on the edges of it, two on each side.

"These are the members of an expedition through the Dark Portal," Matthias says. He turns around, nodding towards a statue standing at the end of the main road where it splits to lead into Trade District, where they came from. "And this is their High General." Runa walks over to the statue of a man holding a broken blade in his hand, leaning on his chest. She looks at the inscription.

_General Turalyon_

_Former Lieutenant to Lord __Anduin Lothar__. __Knight of the Silver Hand__. High General of the __Alliance Expedition__that marched into the orc homeworld of __Draenor__. Presumed deceased._

_Esarus thar no'Darador - By Blood and Honour We Serve._

_You were the right hand of justice and virtue, old friend. Your name will be honoured in our halls always._

_- Lord __Uther the Lightbringer__- Knight of the Silver Hand_

Without a word, she walks over to the first statue to the left of her - an elf female. Like all statues, she is facing south, to the gate of Stormwind. In the lowered hand she is holding a bow, while a large hawk is on her other, held up hand, its wings spread wide.

The inscription for this one says:

_Ranger Captain Alleria Windrunner_

_Renowned Troll Hunter of __Quel'Thalas__. Lead Scout and Intelligence Agent for the __Alliance Expedition__ that marched into the orc homeworld of __Draenor__. Presumed deceased._

_Your heart flew straight as any arrow upon the wind, sister. You were the brightest of our Order. You were the most beloved of our kin._

_- __Sylvanas Windrunner__- Ranger General of Quel'Thalas_

Runa decides she heard of the elf in Lor'danel once. A few people of all races pass by on their various mounts, followed by small pets chasing after them to catch up, but Runa pays little mind. She has seen a lot of mounts in Lor'danel and on the occasional trip to Darnassus.

The statue from across Alleria's is that of an old mage, pointing his long staff to the sky. Next to him is a dwarf, holding his large hammer up to the sky. To the opposite of him stands a statue of yet another human, this one clenching one fist, a long sword strapped to his back. Runa gives them only a glance. All the statues look magnificent under the bright sun, but they do not interest Runa too much.

Stormwind City is a great city in Runa's eyes, yet something is missing. As she sees all the races crowding the city, she grimaces at how much like vagrants they are compared to Runa's memory of Gilneas. She remembers its greatness, and how polite everyone was, and everything was orderly. They are..._were_ far better than the senseless crowd of Stormwind.

She shakes her head. She had never had such thoughts about the elves, but perhaps because they have a city much more orderly than Stormwind. Gilneans are much better than all other humans, Runa concludes. Gilneans would never have such a mess in their city. Unfortunately, Gilneas is gone. Fortunately, many of its people remain.

After giving her a short tour of the rest of the city, as well as paying a visit to Genn Greymane at the Stormwind Keep, Matthias brings Runa back to the Gilded Roses inn, Allison greeting them. The sun is already setting, and after the hours long tour Runa remembered it was midnight in Lor'danel when she came to Stormwind. Now, it was probably time for the early birds of Lor'danel to wake up, and Runa is going to sleep.

"Good night," the two tell her when they close the door of a small room upstairs, above the inn.

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A/N

Hello, again. Thanks for reading :D In hopes you will leave a review of your thoughts, and follow/fav the story if you liked it, I bid you farewell. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**The Curse**

* * *

Runa jerks awake. Covered in sweat, she gets out of the bed, grasping her aching head in her hands. She walks to the door, her breathing heavy and loud, and opens them. The moonlight lights her room, but it does not help much with the dark stairways. Actually, Runa has no idea where Allison sleeps.

Shaking the thought of fetching the innkeeper away, she rushes downstairs and out of the inn through the window. The door is locked.

Rushing through the still unfamiliar, yet not unknown streets of Stormwind, Runa is panting. Curious eyes of drunkards lying about in alleyways follow her as she passes by, step by step transforming.

She comes to a stop just across the bridge from The Stockades. Two guards are standing at the entrance, their legs almost giving up on standing at such a time. Runa goes around Trade District, heading towards Cathedral Square. Bright moonlight lights her path and reflects in the still water of the Canals.

She stops on the bridge to Cathedral Square, looking at the water beneath her. She does not see herself, but she sees a different person in the form of a worgen, the large lupine humanoid beast. On the inside, too, there was a different, more feral personality to match the appearance.

Runa growls to herself, clenching her fists. The ferocity of the worgen pushed back the better of her on the inside, causing a raging chaos. She howls into the night, running off the bridge and to the left of Cathedral Square, where the harbour is. Ships to Lor'danel sail from there, she has heard. She can go home. Not the real home, sadly.

A few guards walk around the harbour, unaware of Runa stalking them. She sneaks around, almost devoid of moral. It has been so long since the curse, a whole year even, yet she is not used to it, she is not in complete control. Her two personalities are two opposites, but she is in luck that it is not too often she is forced to transform. The feral one shows up, and dominates, only in her worgen form.

She lets out a low growl, prowling forward on all four, her long claws scratching the stone floor underneath her. Staying low, she moves forward, the guards' chatter louder and louder, and they are so close she can almost hear them breathe, as well as their heartbeat. All other sounds at the harbour do not exist for her at that moment. She loses herself, the moon soft on her skin, bright and allowing her a better vision in the night. She moves more forward and forward.

However, she could not know there is another thing stalking around the harbour.

Two strong hands grab her legs from behind, pulling her backwards. Unwilling to give her position away to the oblivious guards, she stays silent and turns to look over her shoulder.

A male human is crouching behind her, holding her back from attacking. She growls at him, but he does not let go. On the contrary, he pulls her away by her legs, and she can't do anything, unable to dig her claws anywhere in the ground.

"What is wrong with you?" the man asks, hissing in a low tone. The guards just glanced around in their direction with innocent looks on their faces, soon returning to their cheery chatter. Runa's breathing becomes heavier as her prey leaves. She scrambles to her feet, clenching her large, clawed fists. The man tilts his head in question as she stands up himself, ruffling his greasy, dirty blonde hair. "Will I get an answer?" Runa understands him perfectly. She is just much more savage as a worgen. And a beast with its hunt cut off is not a calm beast.

She slashes her claws at the man, letting out a deep growl. She is somewhat taller than him, which is only natural. Moonlight might make her scarier, and it has slight effect on the man. However, he disappears from her sight. She stops with her claw mid air, confusion taking over her lupine face, eyes widening and mouth dropping. Perhaps a rogue.

He proves her theory correct when she feels a thin, jagged blade against her throat. She growls in protest, but he does not let go. Rather, he leads her away from the harbour, crossing back the bridge to Trade District, but leading her left, to Old Town. Even more a proof he is a rogue.

Old Town is not a pleasant place. Less fumes and more light than Dwarven District across the bridge, but far more deserted, if not counting the underground rogue settlement and the battleground area, as well as the training grounds for warriors and rogues. Old Town is rustic, and all in all old, differing a lot from the rest of Stormwind.

The man pushes her towards the rogue settlement, the entrance just where the training grounds are. A lot of eyes turn to them, the place almost crowded, yet dead silent. The dagger moves away.

She obeys the man's nudging and goes where he leads. She realises she must look like a mutt, not only being a worgen, but wearing loose-fitting clothing not to rip upon the change. She looks around, several worgen eyes locked on her as she passes with the man behind her. They look curious, yet disapproving, as if they can feel something is wrong about it all.

Runa takes in a deep breath, yet still feels the urge to rip the man's throat out. Too much adrenaline, she supposes. She won't be able to go back is what her inner, hidden her tells her. The weak one, the one out of control.

She knows she can control it if only she tries, but she can't do it on her own. Back in Lor'danel, there is no one to help her. Perhaps it is good the rogue stopped her from killing the guards and fleeing to her fake home. Her normal side pops in her head.

"Why did you want to kill those guards?" the man asks in a low hiss, one forefinger pointed at her, the other arm crossing his chest and resting on the elbow of the first one. Anger is flaring in his eyes as he steps closer. Runa growls a warning. Again, the feral one shoves the normal one away from the spotlight. It is strange, knowing that you are mindless. The worst part is remembering it all, as her personalities are not completely split. It is good for her worgen one to calm down after some time of peace, but not good for the human one to break down under pressure and adrenaline. She snaps her jaw and the man steps back. She leans back in the seat, free of chains. "Answer me."

"No reason," she says after a short while, her normal one coming back again. She can almost feel it win, but the memory of the guards stops it yet again, but does not shove it away. "My instincts kicked in. I am not like the other worgen, I have not had any training in that form. I haven't had any warmth towards me in my human one, either, since I fled home. If there was some, it was too little, and too rare." The man streaks his short, rough beard, a frown settling on his face. Runa can feel the worgen half disappear. She closes her eyes and wills it to vanish. It is not as simple as it seems. It fights back, and her stomach turns as her brain overheats from all of it. Her whole body is trembling inside out as it contorts back to human, a painful process. The druidic transformation is without a single feeling of pain or similar, a transformation Runa wishes.

She shifts on the chair. She can feel it finally go away, but the pain remains as the curse pulls back and she slowly transforms back, taking in quick, shallow breaths as she opens her eyes again, wide in shock. The pain lingers throughout her for a moment longer. The man is looking straight at her. She adjusts her shirt, gulping.

"I wouldn't know how it feels to be lonely," the man shrugs.

"Only a mentally strong person could come out as normal from loneliness," she says, tilting her head. No one is strong enough, though.

"Okay," the man says, streaking his beard again. "Now that you are human again, what's your name?" Runa debated it for a moment on the inside, and sighed. Once again, she did not like the name she claimed as her own.

"I don't have one," she says.

"You don't have one?" the man asks. She shakes her head away, eyebrows furrowing. "You didn't even give one to yourself?" She shakes her head away again. "Okay, then. Pick one, now." Runa groans. "What's your class?"

"Undetermined," she says.

"Oh, you're still underage?" the man asks, receiving a brief nod as a reply. "Anyway, what would you want to be?"

"Druid," she says, glancing around the dark room.

"Are you in training?" he asks.

"Was until the invasion," she says. "There was a night elf back in Lor'danel with whom I trained sometimes, but it was rare. I never went to Darnassus for training, only for the sake of leaving Lor'danel for a bit, though they do have a few night elf trainers there."

"Okay," the man nods. "We have a trainer here, at Olivia's Pond, I'll show you in the morning."

"I think a guard already showed me where it is," she says.

"Good," he says. "This one is a worgen like you, she came from Gilneas. I don't know her name, though, I just know of her."

"Celestine, most likely," she says. The man shrugs.

"Anyway, you will sleep here," he says, pointing behind her. She squints in the darkness as she looks over her shoulder, noticing a bed there. "It is not much, but it is all we can give you."

"I have a stay at the Gilded Roses inn," she says, looking back at the man.

"Well, you obviously escaped from there," he says, rolling his eyes. "You'll stay here. My name is William, by the way. Good night." He salutes weakly and leaves, locking the door behind him. Runa walks over to the bed, sitting on it. Worse than the inn's, yet better than the one in Lor'danel.

A single thought about wanting to escape from them occupies her mind until she feels the curse itching from under her skin. She cuts the thought, closing her eyes. She is not having it once more that night.

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A/N

Hello :D If you liked this chapter, you can let me know in the reviews. :D Same for constructive criticism! All of it is welcome. :D


	4. Chapter 4

**The Stockade**

* * *

_I should be thrown into the wilderness as a worgen._

The curse is something that cannot be explained to the common man. Not without him screaming with fear, at least. They all know what worgen are, but none knows there are Greymane worgen who are not close to 'complete control'. And Runa is one of them.

Somehow, her instincts kicked in while she was asleep. She woke up as a worgen, and that is when her memory stops. All she remembers after that is she found herself lying unconscious in a smaller pool of blood in an alleyway, next to the corpse of some beggar. Just as the morning sun shone, she woke up, and she was caught by the Stormwind City Guard. Two are now pulling her away in her weak, and weakened human form. She groans. They are so weak under the curse. If only it was easy to achieve the control, if only it was easy to shut out the evil alter ego, or whatever. If only...

But Runa is sure she cannot do it. She is weak. She had not a single transformation back at Lor'danel, yet in Stormwind she transformed twice in one night. _It must be the stress, the lack of homeland, the mess of this city and the horror in my soul upon seeing these humans._ The Gilnean nationalism kicks in once more as the two humans drag her along. Her legs are just too weak.

"I do not see how two pesky humans can do such a thing to me," she says, not even thinking about her words. "I am Gilnean, for Light's sake, Gilnean! Oh, damn. I hate being dragged by inferiors just because I am weaker. At least when I am in my human form." She groans once more as her legs hurt more from scraping against the floor. She manages to stand on her feet, which makes it less painful for her overall.

They drag her from the Trade District's alleyway to the nearby Stockade. It is an old, rotten dungeon filled with numerous criminals, their leaders being of an organisation Matthias called the Defias Brotherhood. They do not seem like anything good.

She grimaces as they reach the small stone building, and they push her down the cold stone stairs. Some of their own people stand on guard around the first two prison cells. A distance away, one of the prisoners is standing in front of the entrance to one of the second two cells. They push her past the guards and send her staggering to the criminal. He looks on her, glancing over her every now and then to check on the guards. They roam free within the Stockade, but they cannot leave. Runa does not think it is a good tactic, but she decides not to dwell on it. They are not her people.

"Who are you?" the criminal asks, growling. He looks weathered, timeworn, and overall he does not look taken care of. He is a criminal, after all.

"A new prisoner," she says, glancing over her shoulder. The guards are standing still, keeping an eye on the criminal. Runa shifts in her place.

"Oh, really, kid?" the criminal asks, laughing at her.

"Yes," she says. "I killed some beggar in my blackout."

"Blackout?"

"I am a worgen," she says. The man mouths an 'oh', and nods in understanding. Some fear seems to creep into his expression.

"Understood," he says. Nobody would want a dangerous beast like a worgen in their midst. "Follow me, then, prisoner." He walks away, turning to the left where the corridor splits. On the end of the main corridor is a room, but the two criminals as guards on the outside intimidate her and do not allow her to look in, though there is no door. The only doors are those bars in prison cells down short stairways on the sides of the corridors.

Runa scurries down the stairs in the left wing of the dungeon. The man slows a bit until she catches up. In that wing, there are some creatures unfamiliar to her. "This is the gnoll wing, and this is where you will be," the criminal says.

"Gnoll?" Runa asks, looking at the strange creatures. She can almost say they are some sort of strange worgen. They do have some resemblance. For example, they are humanoid creatures, and they are from an animal. However, they let out strange sounds which sound like strange, high-pitched laughter. It is something Runa has never heard in her life so she cannot guess what animal they are, but it looks cat-like. She has never seen any animal that resembles them, though. They have a large humps on their back.

"Yes, these hyena-like humanoids," the criminal says.

"Hyenas?" Runa asks. She has never heard of such an animal. The criminal glances over his shoulder. The gnolls lock their eyes on the two, though not for long. Each keeps it several seconds at most, soon after getting into an argument with another gnoll close by. Listening to what they speak of, Runa can hear a Low Common, and sometimes broken Common come from them.

"You have a lot to learn here," the criminal says. "You, Gilneans, know nothing of the world."

"Sure," Runa grimaces. They stop in front of a door to a large room at the end of the corridor. "What is it?"

"Hogger," the criminal calls, ignoring her. The strange laugh reaches them again, a large gnoll playing with his axe. "Look." He pushes Runa forward. Hogger, as the criminal called him, deranges in a second, swinging his axe around.

"Forest just setback!" he shouts, charging. He is quick on his feet, which worries the hell out of Runa. She can feel her curse itching underneath her skin, trying to get out. It is actually just trying to protect her. It is the same with the multiple personality disorder, when you think about it. Runa's young friend back in Gilneas had something like it. Before she got slaughtered by the undead.

She pushes it back, though. The criminal pulls her behind himself and stops Hogger by almost shoving his long simple sword through the gnoll's throat. Hogger lets out the strange sound again and backs away to the centre of the circular room.

"Who she? Grrr...," Hogger says.

"A new prisoner," the criminal says. Runa shivers. Will she have to be with them all the time? She does not like the idea.

"Grrr...," Hogger says. "Fresh meat..." He licks half his face with his long tongue.

"No," the criminal says. "A new recruit to out Brotherhood, if she passes." Hogger yelps.

"Yes, yes," he says, bowing his head a little.

"I'll take her to Randolph," the criminal says. "If he accepts her, I'll put her here." Without waiting for Hogger's answer, the criminal pulls her away, leading her back to the main corridor. She glances into the other corridor, seeing elementals rumbling and crackling as they move around. The criminal pulls her into the room.

Randolph, who says that his surname is Moloch, bows down, clenching his fist around his sword. Runa stays in the background while the criminal talks to Moloch, moments later pulling her back to Hogger. Hogger yelps and looks like he will devour her, so the criminal soon gives up on letting her be with them and leads her to the main corridor. They have only two cells left occupied, the first two in the dungeon taken by the wary Alliance.

He leads her into the emptier one, its occupants turning to glance at them, soon returning to their card game. It seems unfamiliar to Runa, but then again, she knows nothing of the outer world, that much the criminal is correct. Gilneans were cut off from the world, especially recently.

"You will stay here," the criminal says, pushing her in the cell, locking it. It is an almost new-looking cell.

"Is it because I told you of my blackout?"

"Yes." He leaves without another word, the others ignoring her. She drops to the ground, sighing. It could have gone worse - they could have killed her on arrival amongst them, yet that criminal kept her alive and gave her a spot for herself.

_Oh, well._

If only she had that hearthstone now.

* * *

A/N

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review (please?)!


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